


To start the season

by Anarchyinplasma



Series: Legends of Destiny [4]
Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Gen, festive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:00:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23367328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anarchyinplasma/pseuds/Anarchyinplasma
Summary: Every year, the defenders of the last city organise a special display for the ones they protect.
Series: Legends of Destiny [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1063367
Kudos: 1





	To start the season

**Author's Note:**

> Again, had this for an age, posting because why not.

A hunter stands at the precipice of the new tower. All around him, the first snows of the year layer a gentle, glistening blanket of pure, untouched white across the city. The wounds of the Cabal invasion still linger, giant scars in the earth, craters where whole districts stood. But today is a day of recovery, to signal they are past the mourning.

As the dawnlight starts to grace the horizon, the hunter starts to form his bow. Glistening strands of amethyst run together from his hands to create an extension of his will, smooth limbs, a sculpted, intricately twisted riser; forming a glistening guard over the handle. It sits ready in his right hand, waiting. His left draws a line in the air, and from the tips of his fingers spins a double-helix ribbon of glossy void, gradually warping until it becomes an arrow. He nocks it, and waits.

The sun glances above the horizon, spilling rays of dawn light onto the waiting city and its glistening blanket of untouched snow. The hunter draws his bow.

He has nothing to aim at, no target in mind save for bare air and an intersection, but he knows he won’t miss. The void won’t let him. He looses his arrow, and waits.

The glowing projectile spirals outwards, over blank air and far above frosted roofs, until a dazzling beam of golden light lances up from an apartment in the city and the arrow explodes in a glittering array of colours; to the enjoyment of the masses watching below.

On que, a dozen other nightstalkers lined up around the walls reach into the void and pull bows and arrows from the cold; glittering purple streaks stream into the city, and each is met with a bullet from a gun made of golden fire. At a dozen points throughout the city, a lance of glittering flame reaches up and creates a display of breathtaking colour in the sky.

The hunter picks up his bow again.

They all fire in a rhythm, an inscrutable pattern unknown to anyone who does not tread the path of the void, a dull, pulsing need in their veins, a warning, and a reassurance. Throughout the city, a dozen more streams of golden fire burn the arrows out of the air, a beautiful display. As they near the closing; all along the walls, more guardians step forth. Hulking titans, standing tall in the cold wind, each of them arcing with lightning. Together, they reach to the sky, and together, they slam their iron-clad fists to the ground with the force of a thunderclap.

The result is a wave of arc energy, rolling around the top of the walls, a dazzling blue ring encircling the city in it’s fleeting embrace. A rippling, roiling halo of sapphire thunder cast into the eyes of every citizen of humanity's last bastion against the howling dark. A scintillating powdered hail of glinting white flakes falls slowly in the unrest, settling back to earth like the light that spawned them.

Warlocks fly in the chilled air, borne aloft on wings made from dawnlight and bound with ties of fire. They scar dazzling contrails into the dawn sky, a shimmering auriferous weave of glittering golden thread that flows into the sky like molten gold in their passing. Eventually these tears of Icarus fall unto the grateful populace of the the last city, and they rejoice in the shimmering gilded snowflakes.

The hunter stands on the tower precipice and watches as a nova bomb fat with chaos accelerant looms overhead like a wound in the sky before exploding and blanketing the city in a carpet of light. The resounding boom echoes in the hearts of every citizen, be they mortal or otherwise.

The Dawning has begun.


End file.
